


Letter To You

by FanaticFantasy



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst with a happy ending sort of, Depressive/Anxious thoughts, It is kinda strange, M/M, Non-native nglish speaker trying to get into writing again, Some swear words, not proof read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanaticFantasy/pseuds/FanaticFantasy
Summary: After the mountain scene fix-it but not really.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Letter To You

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song Letter To You by an amazing Czech singer Lenny.   
> Contains swear words.  
> It's mix of actual plot, thoughts, and lyrics of the song.  
> It is very chaotic and I'm sorry.

Hello dear friend,  
now I know you so much better,  
I hope you’ll get the message, you’ll read the letter.

„Dear Jaskier…“ You couldn’t even call him a friend, what gives you the right to call him dear now?   
Geralt growled and ripped yet another attempt at using actual words to communicate his emotions. Fuck words and fuck emotions. And fuck the bard for making him crave these two things, even though they are so annoying and unpredictable and frustrating.   
How on Earth do you make „I am a self-hating bastard, please don’t leave me“ sound good? How do you say that you can’t love yourself but you pray with every fiber of your body that they do love you? How do you say that someone is your remedy, without making yourself look like one big baggage that they have to drag around?   
Jaskier would now how to do that. Telling everything and more, using so many fancy adjectives… Fuck adjectives.

And if it’s alright,  
I will start from the beginning.  
The day you caught my heart,  
got the whole world spinning.  
We were one of the kind,  
I was an artist, you - the mastermind  
Two strangers walking in the same direction.

Jaskier put his quill down to think. What he wrote wasn’t bad, not at all… Except it was. For him at least. None of those lines could describe what Geralt made him feel since the moment he saw him. How he was excitement and adventure but also yearning and belonging and distance and fear and safety. By Gods, why was his stupid witcher so full of conflicting emotions that somehow made sense so he couldn’t even get properly mad, because he understood the bastard, probably more than Geralt understood himself? Not your witcher, idiot…  
Jaskier loved words. Words were his means of getting food and chatting up lovely people around the continent. Yet… How much he longed to just return Geralt’s hmmm and make it explain everything. Because no fancy words can make this important enough and there are not enough commas in the world for the sentences he thought of. He wanted to say everything at once and nothing at all. He just needed to make the witcher understand. 

You’re still the one,  
You’re the king of hearts, the winner.  
And I’m just a lonely soul, a sinner. 

Does Jaskier have a company now? Does Geralt want him to have it? He doesn’t want the bard to be lonely. But at the same time, a fire of irrational jealousy ignites in his stomach. Is anyone talking to his bard? They better respect him and treat him well. Unlike you…  
The witcher catches himself playing wIth a strand of his hair, in a way that Jaskier always did, when he made sure it looked nice and presentable. And while doing that, the bard would smell of something exotic that slowly became home- Geralt’s home. Oh, how he longed to go home. 

So would you take a chance right now,  
Would you take a step, come over here.  
Just like I always thought you would  
You would wanna be closer than near.  
But you don’t…

Toss a crap at your witcher, oh fuck up aplenty, oh fuck up aplenty… Jaskier tried to humor himself, but tears were hiding behind his eyelids, ready to flee at any moment. He knew that he would bet he one more invested in the relationship because he’s Jaskier and he either gives all of his love and adoration or none. And Geralt got all of it. And then some more. Damn his yellow eyes turning into vicious suns, threatening to burn their prey. Damn his too soft hair that he never really knew how to care for properly. His hands with their touch like silk but grip like iron. And most of all, damn his mouth, the lips that were cut by the gods themselves to accept tokens of love from other lips. But not yours. Never yours…  
And damn his tongue, that in that one sentence cut all the faith in anything. Jaskier still felt everything. The cold breeze, the smell of battle on Geralt, the bitter taste in his own mouth… His worst nightmare came true. Geralt knew, he fuckin‘ knew how he struggled to keep himself up, cheerful, energetic- How hard it got at times and yet he pushed through because his idiot witcher needed him and he would not disappoint him.   
But that moment… Jaskier knew he was beloved by many, many people so many would welcome him in their arms and give him anything he would think about to ease his heartache. But the only person who could mend those wounds was the one who caused them. The one that suddenly became a stranger. More of a stranger than when Jaskier first met him. Can you please… explain? I need hope. I need you to hold me before I crumble apart.

So are you feelin‘ alright?  
Are you feelin‘ okay?   
Never mind the time,  
never mind the space.  
Cause if I’m here for you, are you there for me   
if I see what I want to see, will you still be a part of me?

Geralt so desperately wished that he wasn’t lying when he claimed that he had no emotions. This will surely drive him insane. The thoughts of all the dangers that Jaskier could encounter… Jaskier is strong, he can protect himself. But…Are you sure? The possibility of Jaskier being hurt made his grip on the candle he wanted to light a little too hard and the thing just shattered in his hand. Fuck…  
He threw the remains of the candle at the wall. Why…. Why could he say those words so easily but getting Jaskier away from his mind seemed like an impossible task? And why did that last look on that dear face chilled him to the bone? The answer was clear. He was the one who made the fire of passion in the young bard’s eyes turn into the flame of agony. 

I still see the light  
When you filled my heart’s desire  
But you were walking on water and I was on fire.  
And after the flood, you stood strong and I was broken,   
your chest untouched and mine wide open

Was it selfish to want Geralt to hurt too? Probably. But it was what Jaskier needed. He needed to see that it was real, that it wasn’t just his imagination. He needed to know that there was at least some truth in the unspoken stories that those yellow eyes told him. Please give him something to hold onto, something to comfort him.   
Because now he was just alone and suffering. And the fact that Geralt was so cold and distant during their last conversation…Jaskier’s brain was not kind to his owner. It is your fault. You dreamt up this „amazing relationship“. You thought that your love is enough. Stupid fool.

So would you take a chance right now,  
Would you take a step, come over here.  
Just like I always thought you would  
You would wanna be closer than near.  
But you don’t…

Oh, how the tables have turned. Now he was the one to desperately wish to have the bard close. Would he know what to say? No. Would he get forgiveness? Probably not. But did he need to feel Jaskier’s warmth and smell the mixture of his sweat and overprized exotic oils? Definitely.   
But…Would Jaskier want that? That single thought cuts more than any claws or teeth of creatures he had fought. The fact that Jaskier might not want Geralt around anymore. The fact that Jaskier is not willing to share himself anymore. The fact that…Jaskier may hate him. Not that he could hate you more than you hate yourself…

Are you feelin‘ alright?  
Are you feelin‘ okay?   
Never mind the time,  
never mind the space.  
Cause if I’m here for you, are you there for me   
if I see what I want to see, will you still be a part of me?

The rain softly tapped rhythms into the roof as Jaskier was getting ready to go to sleep. Well… Get drunk and then go to sleep. He wanted to clear his head of any thoughts and memories until the only things on his mind would be the wine stains from all that he drank. A sudden knock on the door made him stop just before pouring himself the first cup. He softly cursed under his breath and opened the door.  
„Geralt.“   
That cursed name left his lips without him ever wanting to say it. It felt alien and made him vary. The owner of that name stood there, soaked in the autumn rain.  
„Jaskier.“   
Please don’t make it sound like everything I have ever wanted.  
„What do you want?“  
The bard was very tense, his jaw tight, trying not to show the storm that raged inside.  
„I wanted to send you a letter.“  
The witcher held up the scroll, that somehow managed to not get as wet as he himself did.  
„Then why in the name of every god, goddess or other divine beings that has ever even crossed the minds of people on this freaking planet, why are you here at my doorstep?!“  
The bard was now getting furious. What was this nonsense? What was the point? How much would it hurt?  
„I didn’t know if you wanted to read it.“  
That quiet response and a very unsure look in the yellow eyes broke Jaskier’s facade. The fact that Geralt thought enough about how a big thing like this would mean to him and that it could affect him big time. Maybe there was a tiny spark of hope still. But did he dare to let that spark start the flame all over again?  
…  
„I would love to read it.“

Are you feeling alright?  
I’ll write a letter to you if you want me to.


End file.
